Cal shook his head, clearing it of the morbid, abstract thoughts. They weren't ones he liked to entertain, and dwelling on the past was a nasty habit he'd gotten rid of long ago. He sat down on the grass, his back against a fallen stone pillar, and waited.
They become instruments of their craft. They are no longer people. That's why we always see them as—
I simply endured.
Who are you? Why does the door lead here?
—the keys fight back when you try to steal them.
Not mass suicide. Mass movement.
Watch the Szikatr as its shadow stretches into the sky—
Calidrius woke up within his dream. He narrowed his eyes at the dark ceiling above, trying to figure out which voice belonged to whom. Some seemed familiar, others not. They faded away entirely before he could identify any of them.
He willed his body upright. Before him was a rusty iron door. It opened without a sound, and yellow light spilled out. A dazzling, blue-white figure stood there, hand on the doorknob.
"Demon of the Seven Fires," it said.
"Yes, that's me," Calidrius replied. He squinted again, but couldn't see past the blinding glow.
"May I come in?"
"Of course." He stepped back to let the person through, and the space around him resolved into a small bedroom. The door swung shut with a loose clang of metal. Everything was lit now by the figure's cold, pale light; the old furniture seemed flat and unreal. The windows were dark. Despite this, Calidrius was comforted. He knew this place. "Have I done this before?" he wondered out loud.
"Maybe not precisely like this." The figure stepped forward and looked up at him. "I need your help. I lost my arm."
Calidrius glanced down, only just noticing that the blazing person had only one arm. The other
was severed cleanly at the shoulder, like one of those famously broken statues he couldn't remember the name of. "Oh," he said. "You're Rem. Right?"
"I suppose so. That's not important, is it? I lost my arm."
"Actually, it's very important. Look, repeat after me—you are Rem."
"I am Rem." The person shrugged his shoulder, a little impatient. "Help me find my arm now."
"I can't," Calidrius smiled. "Don't you remember what you did to it?"
"No."
"You turned it into something else. Something quite different from what you are. But you were sick, and you didn't want your new arm to get infected too, so you cut it off."
"Oh." The boy lifted his hand and looked at his shining fingers. "Am I still sick?"
"No. That I did help you with. You're fine now."
"Can I get my arm back, then?"
"It's not yours anymore, Rem. You probably wouldn't even recognise it now. Best to just let it go. Live with what you've still got, okay? It took a lot to make you well again."
"But…" Rem studied his hand a while more. The light was fading somewhat, and Calidrius could just discern his expression—he wore a puzzled frown, lips parted slightly in confusion. "But my arm's missing. I'm still well?"
"Yes, of course. Don't you feel well?"
"I…I do. I just…" Rem's gaze wandered off. "It's missing, that's all."
"I know. And I'm sorry. But trust me, you're better off letting it be. What's done is done."
"I suppose so," Rem mumbled.
Calidrius put a hand on Rem's shoulder. Orange sparks exploded between their skin; he snatched his palm back with a wince as Rem twitched away. "Damn," Calidrius said softly, disappointed. "Still can't touch you. Sorry."
Rem dismissed it with a shake of his head. "Maybe one day." He looked around. "I like this place."
"So do I. But let's get going soon. We're not meant to be here."
"Why not?"
"The owner's not back yet. It's not nice to trespass. Besides, we don't really belong here anymore."
"Why not?" Rem repeated.
"Because. Stuff happened. We got kicked out." Uncomfortable discussing the topic, Calidrius went to the door.
"Wait." Rem's hand closed around his arm, but he didn't let go. Calidrius bore the burning pins-and-needles sensation with a grimace. "What is my true name?"
"If you don't know it, then how can you expect me to?" Calidrius smiled sadly and pulled open
the door. Golden light spilled into the room, basking it with colour and warmth, though the windows remained pitch black. He gestured with his hand. "After you, Rem."
Rem took a last look around and slipped through the doorway, disappearing into the brightness. Calidrius felt a strange tug at his throat, then an almost-unbearable urge to follow after Rem. His fingers twitched; he shuffled forward two steps without realising. The light felt like golden fire and smelled of summer flowers. With great effort, he held his ground, glancing back at the silent room. His eyes landed upon a dusty statuette of a lion sitting upon the scarred desk. He picked up the bronze artefact and tossed it through the doorway. Unable to ignore its magnetic pull any longer, he fell into the light with a glad sigh. The last thing he heard was not more mysterious whisperings, but his own thoughts. You could've told him. Everything we did wrong, everything we made him suffer through. Then you would both forget, but maybe he'll forgive you first. Maybe, the next time you wind up here, you'll be able to touch him again.
Too late now. He was gone.
Cal woke up beside the lake and couldn't remember the dreams he'd had. The sky was darkening
to deep blue. The clouds were gone, and unfamiliar stars winked down at him from the heavens. His back was sore; he sat up and stretched. It was then that he noticed the white shape lying next to him. Rem looked deeply asleep, body completely relaxed when Cal lifted his head onto his lap—but even as he watched, the boy's pale eyelashes fluttered, fingers flexing as he stirred. His hair and robe were dry and strangely warm like he'd been sitting next to a heater.
"Please be okay," Cal muttered. He glanced at the water. Its surface was still and dark. The faint chatter of frogs and insects sounded from the reeds, less shy with Telum's presence gone. There was no second energy cache to consume if something went wrong now.
"Cal, I saw the most amazing thing," Rem whispered, and though his voice was weak and tired,
his eyes were bright, completely alive. Seeing it made Cal slump with relief. He grabbed Rem's hand and pressed his lips to it, and Rem smiled a little and squeezed back.
"Yeah? When you were sleeping, you mean?"
"Mm-hm. Only I don't think it was a dream. I saw a young man, a boy really, a sad boy with strange tattoos and blood that wasn't red. He was riding a war horse and running away from something he couldn't escape. And then he did something and made a tree grow really fast and the tree floated up into the sky, and they disappeared into the clouds." Rem sighed. "His horse didn't make it, though. I forgot what happened to her, but it was sad too. But, Cal, I saw this boy and I thought, he's just like me. He can see things and do things that I can, he can make time bend. I think he's real. I really hope he is. Do you know about him?"
A floating tree sounded vaguely familiar, but then by now most things did. And he'd met plenty of sad boys with tattoos before, but not one who could bend time. Regrettably, Cal shook his head. "No, sorry. But I could look for him for you. He sounds interesting."
Rem nodded agreement, eyes drifting shut. "Thank you."
"What will you do now, Rem?"
"I'm not sure. Take a rest, maybe. Catch up on some sleep." His eyes opened again and he frowned. "No. I've slept enough. I want to travel. Where are we?"
"No clue," Cal said truthfully. "This place seems kind of boring, to be honest. I could take you somewhere else before we part ways. You're probably still feeling a bit tired."
"Part ways?" Rem struggled upright and sat opposite him, gaze imploring. "Do we have to? So soon?"
"Yes. I have lots to do. Very busy man here," Cal grinned. "I promise I'll try to keep in touch. I'll definitely let you know if I find that boy."
"I want to go with you."
"Can't, sorry. Come on, you know the rules. How about I take you to…Rain Town?"
Rem smiled. "That would be nice. But what's so bad about just staying here?"
"Because it's boring." Rem looked at him pointedly, and Cal added, "Fine, I'm sure it's somewhat interesting. But…you know what just happened. You know that somewhere, in this world, that sickness is still waiting for a host—for you. You've cast it all off, but if you step on it again…." He
exhaled. "Are you particularly attached to this place?"
Rem shook his head. "Not exactly. Maybe I once was. I just don't feel quite ready to leave."
"Well, I'm off soon. You'd better get ready."
"I had a story here, didn't I?" Rem asked softly, staring at the dim, grassy horizon. "Friends, family, enemies. A home. I can't go back?"
"No. Well, I couldn't stop you if you really tried, but I strongly advise against it. Because of aforementioned reasons. Also because I can visit if you're in Rain Town, at least until you move on. I worry about you, Rem."
"I can take care of myself." Rem stood up slowly, and Cal followed suit. "All right, then," he murmured. "Let's go."
Cal grinned and took the boy's hand. "Thought you'd never say that. Hold on tight."
He closed his eyes, tapping once more into the abstract channel of energy he so rarely employed this way. To his surprise, it was immensely easy to access with Rem—a dazzling column of lightning in his mind's eye—next to him. It felt vivid and clean, almost like a fresh battery eager for use. He took a moment to figure out the general direction he wanted, then let the brilliant brightness expand across every fibre of his being. Outside, their bodies wavered and ceased to exist on the material plane.
Just before the light carried them away, Cal leaned in close and whispered, "When you're truly ready, look for Lieutenant Snow in Mernot. I hope you can forgive me."
After a thousand nightmares, it all suddenly stopped. The silence pummelled through Snow's restless dreams like a knife, severing him from sleep in a heartbeat. He sat up sharply, instincts assuming there was some sort of trouble at hand. The room was quiet. His head was quiet, for the first time in what felt like years.
He relaxed back against his pillow, frowning. It was strange to relax. A moment later he yawned. He realised he was exhausted, energy constantly sapped by the strain of Rem's absence, his body reacting to the stress of it all by simply going numb. He hadn't been able to properly do anything when continuous spikes of confusion and frustration and sorrow took turns to drive into his skull. The past few days were a grey blur.
A warm weight shifted against his hip. Snow looked down to find Gabriel curled up beside him, arm sliding blindly into the space he'd vacated. What was Gabriel doing here?
"What are you doing here?" Snow asked, blinking tiredly. The hoarseness of his own voice surprised him. He reached a heavy arm across Gabriel for a glass of water. He didn't switch on any lights: the soft shadows were soothing to his abruptly clear mind and drained body.
Gabriel squirmed closer with a sleepy murmur, trying to drape his limbs over Snow. Snow shoved him away with his knee. Gabriel gave another unintelligible protest and opened his eyes blearily. "…What?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Sleeping," he mumbled. He yanked once at Snow's shirt. "Get back down here."
"Did I invite you in?"
Some of his words finally seemed to be registering with Gabriel. The man gave him a long, semi-conscious stare, then scooted up to slouch against the headboard. "Yes," Gabriel said, sounding almost as tired as Snow felt.
"I asked you to sleep here?"
"Kind of." Gabriel closed his eyes again and rested his head on Snow's shoulder, brushing their legs together. "You wanted someone t' stay. I stayed."
"The couch is that way."
"It's cold."
"You're—" Snow lifted the blanket briefly to check. "Very nearly naked. Wear something."
Gabriel heaved a sigh that turned into a yawn. "Glad you're here again, Snowy. Can we go back to sleep now, please. Talk in the mornin'."
"What was I like?" Snow said quietly. "When I was…not here?"
"Mm. Y'know." Gabriel poked his chest clumsily. "Fuckin' train wreck. Hard to watch. Everyone's worried."
"It stopped. All that…noise. It just stopped." He paused, then made himself say it. "I think he's gone."
Gabriel just made another non-committal noise. "You'll be fine, Snowy."
"Why?" Snow swallowed. "How?"
"'Cause. You're strong and…just strong. You'll make it. Worst part's over."
"But what am I supposed to do without him? It was my job to help him. Everything I did went towards finding him a better place to stay. But now he's found it and he's…gone."
"Yeah," Gabriel grunted. "You're not 'supposed' to do anything. You never were, and Rem never forced you to. You know that, right?"
"Yes, of course." Truthfully, Snow wasn't sure. He had nothing else to compare it to. His entire quiet, steady existence had always been joined at the hip to Rem's wellbeing. To walk away when Rem got sick was a personal crime worse than the deepest betrayal; it was against everything he'd ever stood and fought for. Had he been forced into that, made to do that? If his single deepest instinct was to protect Rem, what did that imply?
"So he's not here anymore. You can do whatever you want."
"I don't know what I want. I can't think when everything is so quiet."
"Well, good, 'cause y'know what quiet is for?" Gabriel mumbled, sliding back down under the blanket. "For sleeping. G'night."
Sleep actually sounded like a very good idea, but for some reason he wanted to keep talking, if only for a little while. It seemed a long time since he'd had a proper conversation with a friend. At least it helped block out some of the silence. "Why are you so tired?"
"I've been up here four nights in a row."
Snow lay down again, keeping a respectable distance between them. It proved futile when Gabriel just took it as an invitation to cuddle up to him. Snow sighed silently and felt Gabriel grin against his chest. "Did I keep you up? I don't really remember what I've been doing."
"No. I slept just fine. This bed's very comfy."
"Then why—"
"It messes with my schedule, that's all," Gabriel explained. "I'm not used to taking such a long break from things. It gets too comfortable, and I get tired. It's weird."
Snow turned slightly to finally look at him. "You're saying you rest more after servicing ten partners than when you have nothing to do?"
"Yep. Wouldn't strictly call them partners, though. Just customers." Gabriel gave him a slow, teasing smile, his hand beginning a vague wander up Snow's ribs. "So if you want me to be less tired, maybe we should…"
"No," Snow said. He didn't add anything else, and after a while Gabriel removed his hand.
"Sorry."
"You can keep your hand there," Snow murmured. He dropped his gaze. "It feels nice."
Gabriel hesitated, then shuffled forward to hug him tightly. "I am so, so sorry for everything that's happened, Snow. If there's anything at all that you need…"
"This is fine." Snow combed his fingers lightly through Gabriel's hair until the man pulled away again. "How long will you be here for?"
Gabriel shrugged a little. "As long as it takes, I guess. Whatever you want."
"What if I want you to get a proper job and stop doing what you're doing?"
He laughed once. "Since when have you cared?"
"I have for a while, actually. I simply thought you'd realise one day that it's dangerous and abusive, and you'd stop on your own."
"It's not abusive," Gabriel scoffed. He drew the blanket up to his shoulders and closed his eyes. "And I like it."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. I have a method for it. I'd explain, but you wouldn't understand. Plus, the money's good."
"It isn't healthy," Snow stated.
"Yeah, well." Gabriel wriggled into a better position and
let out a long breath. "Let's not argue on your first day back. Did I mention how tired I am?"
"About five times, yes." Snow smiled, finding it peculiar but not particularly difficult to do so. "You're also lying."
"Hmm?" Gabriel opened one eye briefly. "'Bout what?"
"Why you're tired. Of course you haven't been doing nothing."
Dragon Bone Page 42